Sunday, January 26, 2014

How did I get here part 2: surgery time

So surgery was scheduled for the ass crack of dawn on Monday and since I had the ENTIRE weekend to do nothing but search the internet.. I was terrified. Seriously, they shouldn't allow people to have access to the web that have 2 days between diagnosis and attempted treatment.. It's scary shit! I was nervous and tired when they came in with all my paperwork. I had to sign to agree to let him remove my ovary if he couldn't just get the tumor out. Shit got serious then. Now I wasn't just worried about dying on the table, now I was worried about never having kids. Just the state of mind you want to be in before you go under. I gave my hugs to my parents, grandpa and N and they wheeled me back.

Next thing I know I'm waking up in another room I'm super warm and I feel like I'm going to piss all over myself. Natural reaction is to try and hold it. Ffffffffuuuuuuuuuccccckkkk that hurts!! I'm telling the nurse I have to pee, she's telling me it's not possible, they just took the tube out of my bladder and I'm empty. And I'm going look lady, if I dont sit on a toilet and at least get my body to realize I don't need to go, I'm going to have problems. We go to the bathroom and lo and behold.. The bitch is right, no pee, but I feel better for trying. They give me a few more minutes and wheel me back to the room I started in.

I was woozy, cranky and fucking starving. And I wanted Wendy's, not those shitty graham crackers they kept trying to get me to eat. I made my mom help me get my bra and underwear on. I figured if I was going to have to lay there for another hour I could at least feel decent. Dr came in with good news. He saved my ocary even though the tumor took up 98% of it, and he took pictures for me! I ate their stupid crackers and they were finally convinced I could go home.

We kinda figured after surgery that my cycles would right themselves.. But that didn't happen. Still as wonky as ever. So now we don't know if that ovary even functions.

So here I am. Fucked up cycles that are impossible to track, taking my temperature every goddamn morning (have I mentioned how much I love mornings?) And pissing on things like a territorial dog (ovulation kits, pregnancy tests, if they think it might help, I've peed on it)

Dr is giving mother nature until April to get her shit together, then we start with "intervention" which is the nice way of saying "really expensive baby making drugs and tests".

Every drunken high school chick gets knocked up prom night and I'm having scheduled sex with my husband... Fuck this


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